The People

Short poem

The monster I became 

The destruction of the flame

Im sorry

You created a portrait for me

Flee to she

He said to me

In the bright light

He had sight

I had no might

You were my portrait

Your frame so small within my heart

He slowly took it apart

You ask me why

Yet, I remained a fly

to his ties

Beauty she was

Forever claimed

Becoming his meal

The portrait began to peel

Leaving me steal

Now you remain stained

I am ashamed

Forever will I be detained

Removing this name

Reviews

[@zeewhykay]

"Yet, I remained a fly
to his ties"

I love this line, very witty.

I am not one of those who despises forced rhymes. I essentially think it is a worthy challenge to undertake, and an opportunity to play on common tropes. I thought you did that wonderfully.

Well done.

[Sarissari]

Thank you Yann.

[...]

this is very well craved. like old picture to the soil. i love how you go deep. desrcibe dark and light. all seems very real

[Sarissari]

Thanks Martin :) yeah this one was really real to me

[...]

yes is does almost perfect.

[...]

I appreciate the effort you made here.

[Sarissari]

Thanks, I write from my personal experiences. I'm glad you enjoyed it.